


Life-Giving Fire

by bendthekneejon



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post S7, Smut, Underwater Sex, Winterfell springs, and jon finding out dany is fire resistant, bc why not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 20:31:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17128235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bendthekneejon/pseuds/bendthekneejon
Summary: Dany can’t get used to the cold temperatures at Winterfell, so Jon takes her to the underground springs to warm her up ;)





	Life-Giving Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ReinaWritesStuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReinaWritesStuff/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Reina!! I hope you enjoy your present! ❤️
> 
> Before I go on!!! I want to take a second to say thank you to everyone who reads my stuff, as I have reached 5k kudos after posting my last fic (The Nest) and omg???? I don’t deserve this??!!??! Thanks so much!!! I hope you also enjoy this one, especially you, Reina!  
> 

Dany sat on the ground in front of the fireplace at her and Jon’s chambers at Winterfell, wrapped up in heavy furs. She rubbed her hands in a lousy attempt to warm them up; she was not used to these temperatures. So, the fire, staring at her in its quick dance, was inevitably inviting. She extended her arms and put her hands inside the fireplace, relishing with closed eyes the warmth of the flames licking her hands, feeling heat for the first time since she had arrived at the castle.

She heard the quiet sound of the door opening and saw Jon walking in. He lifted his gaze and, as soon as he saw her, his eyes and mouth widened right away as he shouted “ _Dany!_ ”, and ran to her desperately, squatted down, and pulled her hands out of the fireplace harshly. He had a tight, tense grip on them, so tight her wrists hurt. He opened up her palms and stared at them: her skin was, naturally, intact. He turned them, searching for a hint of harm. 

She looked up at him, shock was everything his frown and wide eyes conveyed. He didn’t speak nor blink. He only shook his head in tiny movements, in denial of what he was seeing.

She giggled, “Jon…” He looked up at her, his bewildered expression was not willing to leave. “Fire does not harm me.” He only blinked, staring at her, as if waiting for an explanation. “Didn’t you know?” she only added.

Finally, a sigh of relief left his ajar mouth.

“I…” He shook his head and was finally able to push words out of his throat. “I did not.”

She smiled. “Sit with me,” she said, and pressed his hands between hers.

He hissed, letting go. “They’re burning hot.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she chuckled. She patted her neck with both hands to warm herself up instead, as he adjusted his body to sit down properly.

“Ho-how is that possible?” he asked.

It seemed like they learned something new about each other every day. They had lived without one another for so long, there were so many stories to share, so many thoughts and feelings! Would they ever stop surprising one another, two people who had lived countless adventures?

“I don’t know. There are dragons, there’s an Army of the Dead, you’ve _come back_ _to life_...I don’t know the reason behind any of this,” she said. “But I _did_ let you know about this. Well, Missandei did.”

“Missandei?”

“Yes. I was there,” she said in a cheery voice, unable to hide how she was enjoying the surprise she had caused in him.

“No…when?”

“When we met,” she turned her head to face him. “In the throne room at Dragonstone. You walked in and she said _all_ those titles:  _Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea_ …” she leaned towards him with a grin, “ _The Unburnt”_.

He laughed. “How could I have guessed what that meant?”

She chuckled. “Because you’re wise.”

He looked down, trying to hide a small smile. But the fire lighting up his cheeks made her almost certain he was blushing. Now that her hands were colder, she grabbed his again, and he intertwined his fingers with hers.

“Do you truly think so?” he asked her in a quiet voice.

“That you’re wise?” she asked. He nodded.

“I do,” she said without hesitation. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I haven’t been called that before. Quite the opposite, really.” She frowned. “I’ve been called a fool. A fool for going south to meet a Targaryen, a fool for bending the knee to her...” this made her stomach turn right away, the northern lords had told him so earlier that day, in front of her. “I’ve even been told that I know nothing.”

“Whoever has told you that,” Dany said, “has not seen you for what you are. You are wise, Jon, and _witty_ , and _clever_...”

A tiny smile formed on his lips again, and she rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing his hand. She hoped he didn’t think low of himself. He was anything but a fool. She would always make sure he would know so.

Staring at the fireplace again, she extended an arm and put it into the fire.

“No,” he said again as a reflex.

She giggled. “Nothing will happen.”

“By the gods, I can’t watch that,” he chuckled. “I can’t see you get hurt.”

“I’m sorry, I’m too cold. Perhaps I should sit inside the fireplace,” she jested, making him laugh out loud, something she heard more often the more they spent time together. When they had initially met, not even a chuckle escaped the mouth of the reserved King in the North.

He adjusted his body to get up but she held him down, begging in a small, almost childish voice for him to stay. She always surprised herself with the way she acted in front of him, from her tones of voice to her actions.

“Come with me,” he said.

“To bed?”

He shook his head and said, “Somewhere else.”

She frowned. “Where?”

“You’ll see.”

“No, I…want to stay here, close to the fire. I’m too cold.”

“Trust me,” he said calmly. “Come.”

“Is there a bigger fireplace?”

“No.”

“Unless you’re taking me to a bigger fireplace, I won’t move.”

He laughed, pulling her by the wrists, “It’s much warmer, _so_ much warmer…”

She frowned. “But…there’s no fire?” He shook his head. “How?”

He shrugged. “You’ll have to see it for yourself.”

She smiled, hinting—involuntarily—that she was giving up. “Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

“I want you to see it for yourself. If you truly are cold, then follow me.”

She did follow him. Curiosity, and her need for further warmth, got the best of her. The entire castle was quiet, dark and all its corridors looked the same, but he seemed to know exactly where he was heading. He had lived here almost his whole life, after all. He slipped his hand into hers, guiding her along the hallways and staircases, and she followed him joyously. They left the interior of the castle and the wind, cold like cutting knives, hit their faces, yet she kept on giggling, feeling like a child who sneaked out at night, hiding from the adults. They crossed the godswood and, beneath the windows of the guest house, Jon pushed two big gates open, which revealed on their other side three small pools which were fed by a hot spring. The walls were covered with moss, a proof of the natural inception of this place. As soon as they crossed the gates, the hidden paradise welcomed them with a warm embrace: the temperature was undoubtedly higher than the one next to the fireplace.

She let out a gasp as she walked in and stared around the place with her mouth parted open, with the same amazement that had invaded her when he showed her the dragonglass mines in Dragonstone: another wondrous hidden spot next to a castle.

He placed a piece of wood between the handles of the gate. He said he didn’t think anyone would come in at this late hour, but it was better to be cautious. She laughed to herself and held his face between her hands to quickly plant a kiss on his lips, unable to contain her excitement.

He didn’t even have to tell her they should take their clothes off. They both did so without asking any questions, clearly wanting to get in the water as much as the other.

“Oh, I need to tie my hair,” she said. If she walked back to his chambers with damp hair, she would freeze. Jon swiftly pulled his hairband from his head and handed it to her. She opened her mouth with a surprised smile, “Thank you!”

She tied her hair up in a bun as he stepped into the pool, and then he helped her step inside. She hissed at the warmth of the water running up her body as she lowered herself into it with his help. They sat side by side in a long seat of stone. The water covered her up until her breasts, and Jon until the low part of his chest. He placed his elbows up behind him, resting them on the ground as he sat back against the wall. Nature was wonderful, truthfully, to have built such hot springs in such a cold place. There was not a hint of cold in her body now, the water and its steam had warmed up every inch of her already. They adjusted their bodies for their sides to be against one another. She rested her head on his shoulder and hugged him by the torso. He rested his head on hers and scratched the nape of her neck softly.

“One of the first moments that made me realize, or… _suspect_ , fire does not harm me,” she said quietly, “was in a hot bath.”

“Was it?” he asked. By his tone, she could tell he was smiling.

“Yes. The handmaidens thought I was going mad,” she giggled, and he did so too.

“I can’t believe it,” he said. “You…never cease to amaze me _,_ Dany.”

She tried not to blush, even though he was not watching her. “Neither do you.”

She tilted her head enough for her lips to graze the warm skin of his neck, already damp from the steam, and pressed a silent, long kiss on it. In response, he put a hand on her knee and rubbed it with his thumb. She rested her forehead against his neck and moved her hand to his opposite shoulder.

“I’ve wanted to bring you here for _so long_ ,” he said.

“Since we got to the castle, you mean?”

“No, before, much before.”

She smiled to herself with her eyes closed, rubbing his clavicle with her thumb.

“I was not allowed here often,” he told her. “The Starks used it the most, and Lady Catelyn didn’t like it for me to bathe here. However…I used to sneak in here sometimes,” he chuckled.

“What a rebel!” she giggled, yet this piece of information saddened her immensely.

“’Tis the calmest place in the castle. You forget about everything that’s happening outside. Nothing else seems to matter here, does it?”

She sighed. Even though there were plenty of things that mattered now, it did feel like _nothing_  did as they were locked in here, in a small paradise, just the two of them. She wondered if here, he used to forget about all the injustice he had lived in this castle. She pictured him, younger, maybe slimmer, with less beard and shorter hair, sitting in one of these pools, being at ease for a while, isolated from the hardships he used to live. This was his castle now, though, and how she wished he could be happy now, free of any worry! Would there ever be a time when their lives would be that way? She hoped so with all her heart! If winning the Great War meant so, she longed for it desperately. However, it was enough for her just to be with him after the war. If it meant they could be together at the end of the day, she would gladly endure more hardships. If the price to pay would be further struggles—the slaughter of the Army of the Dead, the ruling of Westeros—for them to be together at the end of the day, locked away from the world in a haven like this one, no price could be high enough. But at least for now, they had such peace, without even winning the war yet. At least for now, she would unhesitantly forget about the outer world as much as she could.

She only focused on his skin against the side of her face and beneath her palm, which seemed to ask her a question: was there a better way to focus only on the present moment than loving one another, than feeling each other’s touch? Was there a better way for nothing else to matter?

She turned her head to him and brushed her lips against the side of his beard.

“Help me forget,” she begged in a quiet voice.

She felt him nod silently and couldn’t help a smile from the anticipation. He placed a hand on her opposite shoulder, adjusting his body to face her, resting his side against the wall. His face was as close to hers as it could be, yet they did not kiss right away.

He placed his opposite hand on her thigh, and slid it across it, drawing near her cunt. As soon as it moved, her cunt throbbed and her heartbeat quickened. How could he do that to her so quickly, despite having been together every night on the ship to Winterfell? However, his hand slid towards her knee again, slowly, and then back towards her cunt. She exhaled a quiet laugh at his teasing, just inches away from his mouth, and finally trapped his lower lip between her teeth, softly, pulling it as slowly as she could, mirroring his slowness.

His wide palm traveled back along her thigh to her cunt, and her impatience built up as a tingling went up to her stomach, eager for his touch. With her fingertips against his jaw, to keep him from moving his head, she brushed her lips against his and felt his tongue resting on his lower lip, ready to taste her. His fingertips were just an inch away from her cunt, yet he only scratched her inner thigh softly, so softly it was maddening. Her cunt throbbed harder in anticipation, and her legs, unwittingly, separated further from one another. She finally kissed him full on the mouth, as a demand for him to carry on further. She turned her head to a side to open her mouth wider, and pushed her tongue inside his mouth. As a reaction, his fingers finally pressed her cunt, making her feel victorious. An electricity ran up her body right away and her breathing speed increased as they kissed. His fingers sneaked between her folds and met her warm skin as her liquids were starting to slink out and meet the pool of water.

His fingers started pressing her nub in a slow circle, yet steady and deep. She shut her eyes and paused the kiss to let out a hum. The following circle was deeper, and the one after that, quicker, and so were her breaths: deeper and quicker.

He captured her lips again in soft yet quicker kisses, allowing his tongue to explore her mouth, as he softly scratched the nape of her neck with his opposite hand in the same rhythm as the fingers in her cunt. She tried to keep her breathing steady as her cunt burnt up for him, lost in the moment like she had asked him to, so lost she couldn’t even remember what was it she had wanted to forget, both his hands and his lips were working hard to assure so.

Yet she did not know what do to with _her_ hands, she wanted to give back the pleasure he was transmitting. He deserved to feel the same way. So she extended her arm to grab a hold of his cock, yet he let go of the kiss and of her cunt to pull her hand away from it.

“Sit back,” he said quietly, “relax.”

She was already missing his touch, so she complied quickly, resting her back on the wall, if it meant he would touch her again. Those seconds without his finger were torturous, they had left her cunt throbbing, unsatisfied. Yet his fingers traveled to her breast instead, grazing softly its lower curve, making her close her eyes and allowing her head to fall back. His hand moved to its upper part, rising over the water, she heard how the drops fell down from his hand; even the tiniest of sounds could be heard in such a quiet place. His fingers grazed her nipple, until finally getting a hold of it and massaging it, quickening her breathing even more, making her chest rise and fall shamelessly under his fingertips.

She frowned, enjoying every caress, yet longing for his touch on her cunt again.

“Down,” she breathed, trying to articulate a better phrase, “back down... _please._ ”

The back of his fingers slid down between her breasts, across her stomach, until reaching her mound again. He pressed it hard, and her legs opened even more on their own, without her even commanding them to, so she lifted one of them and placed her foot on the stone seat to give him a better entrance. This time, though, he didn’t keep on pressing her nub, but slid a finger inside her instead, and a moan fleeing her mouth was an inevitable extension of it. He curved his finger inside her as her walls contracted around it, begging it to stay, to keep on going. Her breathing was loud, she couldn’t help it, and with every movement of his finger, it became even deeper. She held his arm and caressed it up and down, from his wrist to his elbow, trying to let him know she was enjoying every stroke. He seemed to understand, because he added a second finger and a louder moan left her throat, which echoed around the place. Every time he curled his fingers, her entire body was flooded with an electricity than traveled in her veins, pleasing every corner of her. She did not try to contain any moans from escaping her mouth, she wanted him to know how much she loved what he did to her. She turned her head to him and placed her forehead against his beardy jaw, keeping her eyes closed relishing every second of her pleasure and warmth. She felt the muscles of his arm, tensing and relaxing as his dexterous and strong fingers did their job. They clearly were the fingers of a fighter, of someone who could wield the sword like him. Jon, as the great lover he was, was always attentive to please her as best as he could, as opposed to her previous lovers, who used to be too focused on their _own_ pleasure. So, even though she would like to remain in this position until she finished, she didn’t want to go on without pleasing him.

Before changing her mind, she got up and swiftly turned to him, kneeling up on either side of his legs. He leaned in, burying his face between her breasts and opening his mouth against her damp skin and closing it with his tongue against it as she hugged him to her. She dropped her head down to his as she hugged it tightly, breathing so hard that her skin left his face and then hit it again every time she did so. He turned his head to a side and kissed her breast, his kisses left a trail from its side until finally reaching her nipple and capturing it between his lips. Another moan left her mouth unannounced. His hands traveled down from her armpits, his thumbs passing over her breasts, down until reaching her waist and hugging her body to him. She pressed his earlobe between her fingers and heard him moan as she kept rubbed it.

Her arousal had not ceased, though, and her cunt kept on asking for more, throbbing in complaint of such interruption. On top of that, her hips started bucking towards him, and he held her butt cheeks tightly as she did so. She needed him again, their loud breathing and the desperation of their bodies to be together were an unquestionable proof of it.

She adjusted her feet on the stone seat and lowered her body on his cock. They both hissed at the perfection in which he fit in her, as if his cock were a piece missing from her puzzle and had finally found its spot. With her elbows resting on his shoulders, her hands went back into his hair as their lips locked once again while their hips started moving.

His hands roamed down her body until they held her by the hips, helping them find a rhythm. They both moaned at the heat on the spot where they joined. While the water around them was hot, her cunt expanding and contracting around him was, impossibly, even hotter. His hard cock inside her was giving her cunt the sweetest massage there could be, wiping every thought from her mind that wasn’t her pleasure and love for him. Their tongues moved in harmony with their thrusts yet her hands broke the synchronicity—she didn’t know what to do with them; they roamed his head, his neck, his ears, held the sides of his face as she kissed him hungrily, wanting to please him as best as she could.

He slid his thumb from her hipbone to her cunt, and restarted to pleasure her nub. She cried out this time, and the delicious and multiple stimuli pushed her to increase the speed. So, she placed a hand on the stone edge of the pool to help her move up and down his shaft more easily. He was as hard as the stone beneath her hand, moaning in a way that assured her he was enjoying every second as much as her.

Yet her pleasure had started much before his, though, so it wasn’t long until she became more desperate and lost in the heat of him, the water, the air, the hot electricity that his cock sent up her body as the two Targaryens enjoyed the heat in the hottest place of Winterfell—it felt like walking on fire. So, it was no surprise that she was closer to finishing than he was, and she couldn’t help her hips from moving more erratically now. The heat of the fire against her hands in his chambers was nothing compared to the present heat. Her whole body was in flames, no matter it was water she was in—water, what turned off fire. The fire inside her consumed her completely, clouding her mind, pushing tears out of her eyes, tensing her thighs as they moved as they pleased until her release marked the end and she was left breathless, resting her head on Jon’s shoulder but not moving out of him.

He was still hard inside her, though, yet he patiently waited for her to regain her strength and move again. She was determined to please him until the end, just like he had done with her a while ago. So they went on, as he held her by the hip with one hand and pressed the other one to the stone seat, allowing his hips to rise and get deeper inside her. She captured his lips with hers again and pushed her tongue inside, blocking the free escape of his moans, as she circled her hips on him. They were both damp, whether it was the steam from the pool or their own sweat, she did not know, but it didn’t take long for Jon’s hips to move more desperately, letting her know what was coming. She bounced on him again, eager to feel his release inside her, stroking his earlobes as she kissed him more deeply.

When his hot seed flowed swiftly into her, accompanied with his moans, she wished with all her strength they had created life, just like did every time they lay together.

The heat of her peak and the warmth of Jon’s following embrace were a whole different kind of fire than the one she was used to. It was not a fire that destroyed, that burnt cities to the ground as the one her dragons breathed. It was a fire that gave life, the one people surrounded at night to keep themselves alive in the woods, the one that gave enough warm to hatch life. And as his seed had filled her insides tonight, how she wished this fire meant the start of a new life now!

Their breaths mingled as they calmed down, and the back of her fingers caressed his beard as she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. She hugged him around his neck, resting her head over her arm. He caressed her head, her hair down her back, and she rubbed the side of her face against his, feeling his ticklish beard.

Silence was gradually taking over again, yet he broke it, asking her in a quiet voice: “Is this warmer than the fireplace?”

She let out a breathless giggle, nuzzling his neck with her nose. “I’m as warm as I could be.”

“So, what now?” he asked.

“We stay here,” she said without hesitation.

He chuckled. “All night?”

She hummed. “Are you sleepy?”

“Not much but…”

“ _Ahh_ ,” she said in a low voice, unable to hide her invitation for more. She had not wanted to move from the fireplace, and now she didn’t want to go back up there.

“…But we have to get some rest,” he went on. “We’ll have a long day on the morrow.”

She did not want to think about it...Meeting up with those beardy, grumpy northern lords again! She’d rather keep them out of her mind for now and stay with Jon in this haven, with a heat fit for the two Targaryens.

“Alright, then,” she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “But wait a moment…before we leave…”

“Hmm?”

She slapped the edge of the wall behind his shoulder blades.

“Sit here.”

“Up there?”

“Yes.”

He remained still for a while before finally giving in. She moved from his lap to give him space to sit up. She watched how the water dripped from his torso as he did so, and watched his cock hanging from his legs, facing her as he sat down. She parted his legs open and kneeled on the seat between them, holding his hands and placing them on the floor behind his back, allowing him to rest back. He let out an exhale in preparation and, starting out slow as he had done with her, her mouth started leaving small kisses along the insides of his thigh. She would try to convince him to spend the entire night locked in here with him, in a tiny place where there was peace in times of war.

**Author's Note:**

> Woooo I had not written fanfic in a while and I’m happy this got me back on track!  
> Okay. So a bunch of incongruences that die-hard fans may have noticed but I ignored to make the fic more fun: the castle of Winterfell is always warm because it is built over those hot springs, but I wanted dany to be super cold to do the hand in fire thing and for jon to take her to the pools. Also, according to George, dany isn’t fire resistant all the time, it was just a one-time thing to hatch the dragons. But fuck it, it was fun to write.  
> I hope you enjoyed this!  
> Merry Christmas everyone! Happy New Year to all of you and I hope 2019 will be better for all of us!  
> Much love <3  
> 


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